From Paris to Pagodas: How Colonial Architecture Got a Local Makeover in Southeast Asia
Bert Nguyen
Associate Language Manager and Copywriter at Flynde
Have you ever walked through the streets of Singapore, Hanoi, or Jakarta and felt like you were in two places at once? One moment, you’re admiring a grand European-style building with stately columns; the next, you’re noticing a swooping tiled roof that feels distinctly Asian. This fascinating blend isn’t an accident. It’s the story of how colonial architecture was forced to adapt, resulting in unique styles that can’t be found anywhere else in the world.
When European powers arrived in Southeast Asia, their first instinct was to build just as they did back home. However, they soon learned a harsh lesson: a design intended for London or Paris is no match for the tropical heat, humidity, and monsoons. This initiated a process of “architectural localization,” where imported designs were adapted to local traditions. Let’s take a look at three different approaches.
The British in Singapore: Pragmatism rules
The British approach in Singapore was a tale of two cities. For public life, it was all about projecting power. Grand civic buildings, such as the Fullerton Building, were designed in the Neoclassical style to convey a clear message of imperial authority.
The facade of the Fullerton Hotel Building, designed by Keys & Dowdeswell, completed in 1928.
But in their private lives, the British were more practical. To live comfortably, they developed the iconic "Black and White" bungalow. This style was a masterful hybrid, borrowing the aesthetics of the British Mock-Tudor style while adopting its most crucial features from the traditional Malay rumah panggung (stilt house). By raising the house on piers, adding wide verandas, and designing for cross-ventilation, they created a home perfectly suited for the tropical climate. It was a clear case of "ruling British" in public while "living Malay" in private.
The Dutch in Indonesia: A deep and lasting fusion
With a colonial presence spanning centuries, the Dutch experience in Indonesia led to a much deeper architectural integration. Early attempts to build Amsterdam-style row houses in Batavia (now Jakarta) were a disaster, leading to widespread disease.
A close-up of Villa Isola, designed by C.P. Wolff Schoemaker, completed in 1933.
This failure forced a rethink, leading to the "Indies Style" (Indische Stijl). This wasn't just a few tweaks for the weather; it was a fundamental fusion of cultures. The Dutch adopted the spatial layout of Javanese aristocratic homes, including the open-front veranda (pendopo) for receiving guests and the distinctive high-pitched joglo roofs that were perfect for shedding rain and keeping interiors cool. They then overlaid these Javanese structures with European decorative elements, such as Neoclassical columns. This evolution continued into the 20th century, culminating in the sleek Tropical Art Deco buildings of Bandung, like the famous Villa Isola.
The French in Indochina: An ideological blueprint
The French colonial project was driven by a mission civilisatrice—a "civilizing mission" to impart French culture, which has surely aged utterly badly. Initially, this meant building direct replicas of famous French landmarks. The Hanoi Opera House, for example, was modelled directly on the Palais Garnier in Paris, a powerful symbol of cultural dominance with few concessions to the local climate.
Saigon Central Post Office, whose design was often attributed to Gustave Eiffel, Auguste Henri Vildieu, and Alfred Foulhoux, completed in 1891.
Later, as colonial policy shifted, the French architect Ernest Hébrard was tasked with creating a new, hybrid style. The result was the style indochinois, an academic and deliberate invention. The core of these buildings was modern French Beaux-Arts planning and reinforced concrete structures. However, Hébrard "dressed" this frame in an indigenous skin, incorporating features such as the multi-tiered, curved tile roofs of Vietnamese pagodas and decorative motifs from local temple art. Buildings like the National Museum of Vietnamese History in Hanoi, the Central Post Office of Saigon and the Phnom Penh Central Market are perfect examples of this systematic fusion.
A shared legacy on a modern landscape
Despite their different philosophies, all three powers converged on similar solutions to handle the tropical climate: wide verandas, high ceilings, large windows, and elevated structures became standard features everywhere.
Today, these buildings are a complex but cherished part of Southeast Asia's urban fabric. Once symbols of foreign power, they have been transformed. In Singapore, they are meticulously preserved and repurposed as luxury hotels, museums, and restaurants. In Vietnam and Indonesia, their preservation is often driven by tourism and a growing appreciation for their unique cultural and natural beauty.
These architectural survivors tell a powerful story of adaptation, negotiation, and resilience. They serve as a physical reminder that, even in the face of immense power, local culture and climate have a way of leaving their own indelible mark.
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